Saint Patrick, an ode to Yeats, Behan, Oscar wilde, and a host of others, the sages of the past…..

 

This is pulled from the archive, it’s the National day of Ireland, so in these times of trial, lets reminded ourselves all, of the struggles we have all got through….

 

The world is beautiful, Have you ever thought about it, the world that is, is it not beautiful in places. We call those places national parks, so many miles of ocean across all frontiers, touching each other in special places the way the sun used to be, and still is in those extra special spaces, now we get burned frozen or flooded instead, except of course for those special places, and the bank manager we wish him dead, the women and their faces we can’t stop looking, the hours spent grooming their façade well look at TV no frowns allowed can’t you tell, a little perfume on the hips lipstick on the lips, as mothers seek safe refuge to build a nest as well, then an heirloom arrives the result of love so they said, children of course keep on watching and waiting, it’s a show they’ve already heard, Disney shows written by old pro’s words they use children in the viewfinder, they used to call it inspiration, today they ration the dead, literally and bury them live on TV, I won the lottery the dredge is no more, no smart opinions to get high on, pure doesn’t give you headaches, it kills you instead, don’t tell Santa he said.
But it’s a pity really, having tossed so much of our future away, the consequence of pure greed that the poorest will pay for instead, they’ve cut back the bird crumbs this week I heard, poor crow, shot at three times dived bombed by a sparrow hawk, a busted wing he hung on, two miles up the road and he’d be fed, earthquake on the TV, the world is falling apart, live on TV of course, you’ve guessed it CNN they are the first to call to help, world latches on cameras roll on carelessly, footage is worth more when you’re dead, no point saving the sick across the world, cant get them together like a Spielberg movie, we’ll rely on old footage. Isn’t the world beautiful he said, the luck of the Irish they always said it was worth waiting for, amen. He said if they gave up the drink, shur they could do anything, well…

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Amo Tends to excite, and dreams can be used to unite…

Amo, what does the word mean, it’s small, it’s Latin, it’s Greek, the old man is trying to explain the importance of a name. Where do these names come from, why are you called John, Jack, James, something to do with your past, suppose it has something to do with your roots, maybe it’s the message of Jesus, the stuff you pass on, maybe names are both a blessing, a warning, maybe a reminder, the habits you don’t want to pass on. The old man sits in the bed, he is trying to pass on wisdom, the hours are getting less and his time has come, there is much he wants to say, but they seem to put thoughts in cages and then they forget, the moans in their faces, he wants to shout, shake them up, this is only passing time, and there is something greater waiting for you, depends on your heart and the state of your soul. No amount of money can do this for you, it involves personal reflection, and that is sometimes difficult. Perhaps others make mistakes to help us along, in case we think we ever get it right.

 

The desperation he feels, they are going to mourn me soon don’t they realize it will be the other way around, what a surprise awaits them. He flashes the eyes, gets their attention, the lack of faith of those who claim to possess it, so darn frustrating, little wonder Jesus gave out to the apostles, they acted as if they were in charge, did they listen at all.

 

Amo, the first word in the L

atin dictionary, Love, wow, we got it they sigh.

Everything she ever wanted…

The attention, free love, the extras, lots of friends, everything she wished for, but there is still a hole inside her, that nothing material can fill, why can’t it be normal. She envies her friends, they’re normal, the boring partners, the routines they have, he leaves the bowl down, never washes the dishes, is always giving Margot their child treats, he shouldn’t spoil them that much, everyone nods and smiles, inside her heart is longing, but she knows, you can’t bring children into the world without foundations. Her friends recommend the child in a box scenario, the artificial thing, you get a list of prospects, and do it yourself. It’s not what she wanted. She retreats inside, it has to be there, the original feelings, where did they go, how do you decide. Everything she wants, it’s already inside her.

The eyes are giveaways, there is an emptiness, she is replaying the lives of old glamour queens and actors, every time she see’s them on the screen, not me hopefully she says. when i get older, i will be surrounded by those who grow with me, those who really love, is it the price of fame, well it comes with risk. I’ll get through it. The next day she decides to slow down, three months later she is on a beach, away from the attention, and herself, the way she used to be, all she ever wanted.

Pablo Escobar

Billions spent on the search, minds applied, technology deployed, resources unlimited, congress approved, when they are interested, there is no shortage of effort, wish the same effort was applied to social needs, they probably just forgot, meanwhile, many years after his death, record levels of drug use across the planet, more and more getting addicted to the gadget by the day, children under more stress than ever, the environment quaking at the seems, sounds as if they spent too much time on Pablo, the cheers that went up in some places the day he died, hardly a breath today, a case of bad management, would you not say. Being poor, it is a struggle, as those in the comfy seats never move aside, while those with the wealth, only want more.

Meanwhile, the technology gained from the death camp experiments in Germany during the great war, used to create the nuclear device, the means of our quick disposal, in the hands of some unsteady men, Pablo understood them better than most. Before the critic in you responds, I don’t advocate drug use, it’s all over the place as we write, it’s just a case of stating what is correct, happy new year, amen.

 

Young Woman

Young woman smile, authority in her eyes, head turned slightly, she means business, well, to be precise, she is there for good reason, she expects to meet the Spirit, and when she does, her healing will begin, she is excited. Her Mother assists her, a little cautious herself, she has been to many healers, and has seen the disappointment in her daughters eyes, how could she not have doubts.

D

Did Jesus say, get up, and they simply got up, it wasn’t too difficult, once you have faith. Is my hair all right, it’s the first thing they notice, it’s always a man, the hair, to the side or long fringe, ma, does it look all right. The car is loaded, she moves with assistance, they reach the destination. Sure enough, they meet the Spirit, there is an exchange of feelings, well being, inside she begins to feel warm, something inside her has woken up.

Your man won’t last, you better get there soon, he listens to the recommendation, the old man is moving on, so they say. Solomon sighed, the candle and the oil brigade, it helps. Every time there is doubt, remember he says, the Spirit, flying about, the great events thereafter, have no doubts. Solomon read the old stories; where faith was strong, The Spirit worked easy, in a modern world, where the material was king in so many lives, he wondered, if they could put aside their preferences for awhile, and have a bit of faith.

Her eyes widen, he nods, he asks for help, the sun appears, and healing begins.

School Child

Sits proud, a smile on his face, they are reading his poem, inside it feels good, to be acknowledged, and told you are good, he bites his lip as the praise comes, it’s the stuff he needs to hear at home, but school will do, his teacher is generous in heart, has empathy for her charges, does whatever she can, likes to laugh. The school bell goes, he puts his books into his satchel, teacher smiles as he goes out the door, well done young man. His father has no time for education, is always complaining, put down by his own father, he is passing on the lessons learned to his son, that’s the way it goes, thank God for great school teachers.

On the walk home, he swings his bag, stares at the trees, birds live in them, there is a cow in the field, moo he says, the cow shakes his head. The need for expression, and the fear in being vulnerable, the minute he gets in the door, he wonders if she will be drinking, the dread, her insults will pass over him like water in a stream, his mind and emotions set on that moment in class, the admiring looks of his fellow pupils and teachers.

Solomon sighed, how a little encouragement works the oracle, amen. Best of all.

We are lights

The young man asked the prophet, what are we supposed to be doing, there is so much written, and I find…it’s all confusing, even when they Speak of Jesus, it’s hard to understand it. The old prophet sighed, it was confusing, no doubts, some interpreted in the narrow sense, by the words of men, others, read it line by line interpretations

, some said he wasn’t human at all. How come the church refers to purity, and perfection, all the time, it feels as if it’s beyond us, and it seems to contradict the words of Jesus. The old teacher nods, men make it extremely difficult for many to understand.

As you rightly point out, Jesus had to eat, sleep, drink, rest, do what we all need to do, got annoyed with his followers, gave out to those in authority, and was often in the company of those deemed undesireable, and many complained because of this too, he didn’t have it easy.

The young man nods, he wasn’t having it easy trying to understand it all. The teacher is trying to encourage the willing pupil, recalls the Great One, who taught them with stories. Was there a fitting anecdote he could use. The parable of the seeds came to mind, at least this young man was willing.

How about this the old teacher says, consider yourself a light, with your thoughts and actions you throw a light on life, and what interests you. The young man nods, so the more we think good, the more it becomes real, the old teacher nodded, well, that’s one way of saying it.

The Source

The wrinkles, deep and old, taken awhile to acquire them, the signs of character, why try to get rid of them, nothing wrong in showing who you are. Solomon was talking with a friend, the timing was good, the sun was out, and the two of them were re calling, older times. To the outside world it didn’t seem much, there was nothing you could take away, you had to experience it, they were talking about the source, where it all came from.

It’s like a river, they just don’t appear out of nowhere, Solomon nodded, he is a student, listening. The finished product was what most were interested in his friend said, while the journey was what made it what it was.

Solomon imagined a giant river, it could be the Ganges, the amazon. When you think of them, you see a mass of water, flowing strong, deep and constant. How they start, it was the same as an oak tree, a single acorn grows, as for the big river, it begins with the trickle of a stream, after many threads join together, it becomes a big river. Jesus said much the same, all of us are Spirits, we need to create the space inside by simply following the Father’s teaching, no big deal.

In the space of an hour, Solomon and his pal solved a few mysteries, not by trying to be smart, but by listening in a non judge mental way. Could anyone learn this his friend said, Solomon nodded, it’s like the big river, you have to understand how it got so big; it was nothing to notice at the start, just follow the treads.

The weaver sits at the loom, strings of wool, different colors, it requires patience, his fingers are practiced, his foot works the pedal rhythm that turns the loom, he feeds in the different treads, mixes the colors, after awhile a pattern emerges, after that a colorful garment. Life is just like that, lots of strings connected, a few failures to begin with, a practice time, experiences, and finally, a life lived. Imagine it, that big river was no more that a drip when it began, and look what it is now, amen.

Journey of My Soul

Man, did that get her attention, she hadn’t heard those words before….

words, what is he going to say next, they were all listening to the “Guru”, waiting for the inspired words to reach their ears, silence, they stare at each other, the assembled, inside they feel a little pious, well, they are the lucky ones to be in the audience, to even hear the words firsthand, Solomon sighed, imagine what it was like for Jesus, in real time, you can’t beat the original.

What is a journey anyway, it’s what happens in between the times you were born and the time you leave your soul, the meat in the sandwich, the experiences that you fell into, the niche you found for yourself, the choice between comfort and risk, decisions. A Journey is a serious of decisions, some made for you, some you make on your own. Solomon was at a group meeting, a bunch of story tellers, the theme they had to write on, the journey, the journey, so many different meanings, endless. Some journeys you make as a tourist, sightseeing your way through life without getting to know anything, some you make out of great distress, the troubles that befall you, and how you deal with them.

Then there are the journeys that change worlds’ Solomon smiled, he’d a few of those in his lifetime, not just one, but a whole bunch of them, each of them juicy on their own, but he got through the maze. His inspiration, those who made similar journeys, well, similar in that they caused him to take the risk, and go the route less taken, when you go jungle as they say, and forego the usual comforts.  Nelson Mandela, persecuted for taking a stand, Che Guevara, immortalized, Martin Luther King, too, the point being, those that made those choices before, laid the stones of future journeys for many, and each one of them, did it, one day at a time, the speeches only came at the end.

Monday, a new journey, he was asking for help, sure he would be assisted, as prayers made in the Holy Name, never go unheard, and it just happens. Believe, amen.

Will someone do the laundry!, everything is dirty…

Lessons in life, mother teaches her son, he is on his way to college, don’t forget to have clean clothes, she reminds him and reminds him, child is on overnight, mother’s first concern, cleanliness, doesn’t want to hear anything bad, you have to do the laundry, well, why does every mother and others, spend a little of their day, cleaning up. Too simple, so were the parables of Jesus, stories and lessons in one, a good movie, same as those Clint movies, dirty harry etc….

Eastwood that is, lessons in life, and if they are entertaining, all the better, they will get our attention and are more likely to stay in our heads, longer than mere facts.

Solomon was commenting on the wisdom of Jesus, and how simple he made things. He had a Spirit inside him that cut to the heart, his words literally pierced your insides. In the world of judgement’s, the analysis of a life, the juries getting heat, the newspapers are getting print, the spin experts getting heard, the machine of news runs and runs, they never run out of ink, till the eyes start to look elsewhere. In the meantime, they dig up corpses to grab your attention, tossing the worst dressed excess at you, hoping to appeal to your inner sensitivity, well, to say you didn’t listen, is almost as bad as what was wrote, guilt rises, you have to have an opinion.

Surprisingly, if they don’t have a near by victim to pin the accusations on, they don’t bother to write about the issue at all. Well, say it as it should, and one day you will get to the truth, the real truth, not the abridged version.

Jesus stands in the square, the crowd gathers, blood is going to be spilled, the woman is tied to a post, bunches of rocks are gathered, ancient Jewish text says this is the applied punishment for adultery. The men in long beards are ready, the Pharisee is about to read a prayer before they rain down rocks on her, their Judgement in, mothers bring their daughters, just to warn them, this is the result of breaking the law, watch it girls. The woman who is judged, head down, waits for the first blow, then she feels a soft hand on her head, she looks up, meets a pair of compassionate eyes, eyes that don’t judge, they understand. He turns to the crowd, waiting for the game to start, his eyes scan the crowd, going face to face, inside they feel the power of the gaze, as the stuff they have been hiding comes to the surface. The conceited pharisee, who is about to give voice to the lords decree, as per the scriptures, feels angst inside, as his own guilt surfaces. Then Jesus asked,

“who here isn’t got dirty laundry somewhere, well, get on with it!”

Solomon imagined the great drama, Jesus on his knees, his finger writing in the sand, then wiping the words away, as if he had come to bring light to the words of God, by wiping the teaching of men from the minds of all. Well….